


The Kindness of Strangers

by littlelamplight



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, spoilers for season final
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:35:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelamplight/pseuds/littlelamplight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, or in the beginning, it comes down to a stranger in a parking lot, who intervened without understanding what they were getting involved in. Or, in which Delphine survives purely by chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kindness of Strangers

 

She’s never known pain like this, this feeling of being ripped apart, she knows, logically, clinically, that she _cannot_ have experienced anything worse than a bullet tearing through her torso. But it feels eerily similar, like a half forgotten memory, it feels like the way her heart felt when she did what needed to be done for Cosima and her sisters, watching the woman back away after breaking it off, and not stopping her. 

 

Her breathing is ragged, and she tilts her head up to stare her killer in the face. She has a strangely desperate urge not to die with her head bowed. She’s fought and she’s fought for Cosima and her sisters, and she’s fought with every last inch of her, and this feels like giving up (it is giving up), but she will not die whimpering in a pool of her own blood. 

 

She can’t see the figure, her vision is blurring and through a haze she sees the gun raised again, and she feels a surge of panic and absolute helplessness, and everything seems to narrow to a point of perfect clarity on the barrel of that gun. 

 

There is a shout, and something bursts into her field of vision, and everything is blurred again, the gun is gone, the world is spinning, darkness creeping up at the edge of her vision, and she wonders, almost absently, if that will be it, if the darkness will swallow her, wash over her, whether really, it will be that easy. 

 

The blurred, swirling colours shift, and change, and she blinks, there is muffled shouting, she can feel a hand on hers, and pressure on her wound that pulls a cry from her, and the pain momentarily sharpens everything. She sees a face she doesn’t know, a woman with panicked eyes who has a phone tucked into her shoulder, speaking rapidly in words that just don’t register. 

 

Delphine wants to tell her that there is no point, that she’s done for, that even if they got her to a hospital, she’d be found anyway, but all that comes out is a pained groan. The woman drops her phone into her lap and shifts forward, she has a hand on the wound, one on her back, and one on her torso, pushing down, as if she can physically hold her together. The image of her flickers, and Delphine finds her mind catching details, the richness of the woman’s dark skin, a pattern of freckles scattering over her nose, the prominence of her cheekbones, a small, pale scar curving over her jaw. 

 

The woman smiles softly, and its like a balm on everything jagged and rough, a blanket pulled over the cold, ‘hey, can you hear me? Just hold on, okay? You’re going to be fine, the ambulance is on its way’. 

 

The world is darkening again, and the pressure on her wound vanishes, just for a moment, before its back, harder this time, and Delphine feels soft material against her skin. The woman’s voice rises in volume, cutting through the fog descending before her vision. ‘Hey, hey, stay with me, okay?’ Her eyes are dark, deep brown orbs that remind Delphine painfully of Cosima, they flicker over her rapidly, seemingly searching for something. ‘Hey,' her voice has lowered, gentled, it's soothing, ‘what’s your name?’

 

She sucks in a sharp breath and she can feel her expression twist, and she almost wishes the darkness would claim her. It would be easier than this. ‘Delphine,' she manages, and anything else she wants to say scatters away into a gasp. 

 

‘Delphine,' the woman repeats, ‘Delphine, just try and stay awake, okay?’ 

 

She wants to, but she is so tired. ‘I’m so… tired’. She doesn’t mean to stay it, but her mind is muddled, and it feels like some sort of confession when it slips from her lips. She’s been strong because she has to be, for Cosima and her sisters, again and again and again, and she’s just so, so tired. 

 

The woman’s brow pinches, and she seems to hesitate. Then, ‘I know, I know, Delphine. But you’ve got to stay awake. For the people you love, yeah? They’ll want to see you again’. 

 

She thinks of Cosima's smile, her lips, the feel of her skin under her hands, her words _I came back for you_ and tries to blink away the fog creeping up on her. If Cosima can come back for her, then Delphine will try to survive, for her. There is still things that need to be done, because Cosima is in more danger than she realised, and she can’t let this be for nothing, she has to make sure Cosima is safe. It would be easy to give in, but Delphine hasn’t made an easy decision in months. 

 

The woman hesitates. ‘Don’t worry about… whoever did this. Once the ambulance gets here, I’ll call the police. Everything is going to be fine. I promise’. 

 

She feels a flash of panic. ‘No,' she gasps, fighting against the darkness now, no, she can’t let this woman call the police, or she really will be done for, and so will this stranger who she doesn’t even know. ‘No, don’t…’ she coughs, her breathing ragged, and is very glad that she can’t taste blood. It's a good sing. 

 

The woman frowns, her face flickering in and out of focus, and Delphine can almost hear the gears turning in her head. She takes a shuddering breath, her hand grasps weakly at the woman’s arm. ‘In my bag… in my wallet,' she grimaces, and the woman makes a shushing noise, but she has to tell her, so she sucks in a deep breath and forces the words out between her teeth, ‘there is a detective’s card. Call… call him, not the police’. She shudders, and everything splinters in to fragments for a moment, before her touch on the woman’s arm grounds her. ‘Please… please…’

 

Everything is fading again, and this time, she thinks its for good, because the woman’s voice is muffled, and she clings to her arm, the word falling again and again from her lips, and the woman leans closer, her mouth forming words, but she doesn’t hear them. 

 

The world goes dark. 

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

After dinner, when they’re all full and sleepy and tired, no one seems willing to move from the table. They sit around, chairs pushed back, leaning on the table, talking quietly and laughing, and it feels warm and safe and right, and as if, no matter what happens next, everything will be okay. 

 

The only quiet person is Cosima. She leans against Felix with her eyes closed, and doesn’t say much. Occasionally, she’ll smile, but there is the distinct impression that it's not because of something one of them has said. Finally, Siobhan looks up at her, a slight frown creasing her brow. ‘What’s up, love?’

 

Cosima opens her eyes, glancing around to see that everyone is looking at her. She hesitates, and pushes her glasses up onto her nose. She sighs. ‘I… I was just thinking. We’ve toasted a lot of deserving people tonight, but… I want to tell you all about what Delphine’s done for us’.

 

Siobhan doesn’t look at all surprised, and Cosima realises, almost as an after thought, that the older woman does at least know some things. She smiles. ‘Well, go ahead, love’.

 

Sarah smiles encouragingly, and so Cosima takes a deep breath, and tells them everything. She tells them about how from the beginning, Delphine tried to balance helping her and trying to save her, about how she eventually came to realise that it really was Cosima's decision, about her promise to love all her sisters, because there was no other option. She tells them about how Delphine chose to break it off because she knew that she couldn’t take over Rachel’s duties and try and work in that position for their benefit and love Cosima like she wanted to. She tells them about how Delphine was trying to work with them, and for them, all this time, even if it didn’t look like it, that she was forced to make hard decisions, and that they really should have trusted her. She tells them about how she did it all, because she loves her, because she loves them. _Give your sisters all my love_. 

 

By the time she is done, Cosima feels physically drained. A stunned silence follows her words, and she uses the moment to wipe at a few stray tears. She aches for Delphine desperately, and she wishes that she’d tried harder to persuade her to come to dinner. She should be here, celebrating with them. She shouldn’t, for once, feel like she has to be alone. 

 

It had come to her suddenly, while they were eating, an image of Delphine sitting alone in some bleak, spotless apartment, with a glass of wine for company. 

 

She understands why Delphine broke it off, and why she thinks she needs to do it alone, for them, always for them, but she isn’t sure if she cares anymore. She wants, desperately, for things to go back to the way it used to be between them. Even if its different. She loves her, and she wants her, and she’s not sure if she cares about the consequences anymore. Maybe its dangerous, but they’ve all faced danger recently, constantly, and they’ve all pushed through it. 

 

She can still feel Delphine’s lips against her own, and lets her fingers rest there briefly. 

 

And there is a half formed thought at the back of her mind, that if she is going to die, if they don’t find a cure in time, if there really is no hope, she’d rather go wrapped in Delphine’s arms than with an image of her burned behind her eyelids. 

 

‘We do terrible things for the people we love’. Cosima looks up at Sarah’s voice, her eyebrows raising in surprise at the rather fitting words. Sarah’s smile is sad, but honest. 

 

Everyone is smiling. Except Helena, who is frowning, and who looks like she’s trying to process something. Then she says slowly, ‘Delphine protects us, yes?’ 

 

Her heart constricts. That is, really, at the core of what Delphine has always tried to do, no matter how much she’s screwed up sometimes, no matter the decisions she’s made that they dont always agree with. She nods. 

 

Helena smiles. ‘Then she is sestra too’. 

 

Her throat closes over, because it's not that simple. (It is). But she wishes it was, because she loves this strange family of hers with all her heart, but that family, for her, includes Delphine, and she feels like part of her is missing. (It is). 

 

(She wants it back). 

 

She sighs. ‘I just… feel like she should be here’.

 

Felix squeezes her arm. ‘Maybe you’re right, darling’. 

 

She looks around, and sees them all smiling, sees Sarah’s nod, and feels something warm blossom in her heart. It was one thing, before, to ask Delphine to come, but she’d half thought that they were glad when the woman didn’t come up. Maybe she was wrong. She reaches for her phone. ‘I’ll be right back’.

 

She is gone for three minutes before Art’s phone rings. He picks it up with a frown. He doesn’t recognise the number. He hesitates. Then stands with a quick apology, and moves to stand in the doorway, his back to the family. ‘Detective Bell’.

 

There is a pause. Then, ‘ _Detective Bell, umm, hi, my name is Layla SinClair… I was umm, told to call you’._

 

Art blinks. The woman sounds exhausted and strained, and a little anxious. He throws a glance over his shoulder to see that Sarah is watching him. She raises her eyebrows, and he shrugs. ‘Alright Ms SinClair, what can I do for you?’

 

 _‘Umm… look, there is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to go for it. A couple of hours ago I stopped a man from assassinating a woman in a parking garage. She was shot, but...'_ the woman takes a shaky breath, and now Art is fluctuating between extreme concern and confusion. All the sisters are accounted for. He can’t think of who would’ve told her to call him. His first thought is Gracie, but for some reason, that doesn’t feel right. 

 

‘Go on,' he motions to Sarah, and she stands to cross to him quickly, and they step out of the room, but not before they’ve drawn everyones attention. 

 

The woman takes another steading breath. ‘ _Before she passed out, she told me to call you. I said I’d call the police and she got really… agitated. So, here I am’._

 

He frowns. ‘Can you tell me anything about the woman?’ He mouths, _someone shot a woman in a garage and she wanted me involved,_ at Sarah, who looks torn between concern and exasperation. He understands how she feels. Everything feels like its just settled down, and now, it feels like it's going to go very wrong. 

 

 _‘Her name is Delphine_ ’. 

 

For a moment, Art doesn’t really register what the woman says. Then he blinks, and Sarah seems to read his expression, because her eyes go wide. He lowers his voice so that the others in the other room cannot hear him. ‘I’m sorry… did you say, _Delphine_?’ 

 

Sarah goes very white, and a hand trails up to her mouth. ‘Bloody hell. Jesus', she mutters.  

 

_‘Yeah. She managed to tell me that before she passed out. Look, I’m not sure what’s going on, but she didn’t seem to think that it was safe to call anyone else’._

 

He takes a deep breath. ‘Well, I’m glad you listened to her. Where are you now?’

 

_‘Hospital. They’re operating’._

 

He motions to Sarah, who grabs a pen and paper for him. He tucks his phone into his shoulder. ‘Which hospital?’ He scribbles down the address. Then pauses. ‘What did you tell the doctors about her?’

 

There is a pause. Then, ‘ _nothing. I said I didn’t know who she was. She’s classified as a Jane Doe’._ The woman sighs again. ‘ _I don’t know why I did it, but I guess, if this woman is too scared to go to the cops, then she’s probably in deep shit. Plus, I’m pretty sure this wasn’t a random shooting’._

 

‘You did the right thing. Look, we’re gonna be there as soon as we can, okay? Can you keep me updated on her progress?’ Sarah is already pulling on her jacket, and he reaches for his own coat. ‘And listen, if anyone comes asking strange questions, can you try and hold them off?’

 

There is another pause. ‘ _I don’t plan to let someone else finish the job, detective’._

 

This woman either knows more than she’s letting on, or she’s clever. Hopefully the latter. ‘Thank you’.

 

The woman hangs up, and Sarah stares at him. ‘Shit, is she okay?’ 

 

He shrugs. ‘She’s still in surgery’. 

 

Sarah runs a hand through her hair, anxious. ‘Do you think this… Ms SinClair, has anything to do with it?’ 

 

‘I dont know. She said she stopped a man from assassinating her in a parking garage, and that she told her to call me rather than the police’. 

 

Sarah narrows her eyes. ‘She used the word ‘assassinating’? Why so precise?’

 

‘I guess we’ll find out’. 

 

They go back into the kitchen, and what has happened must show on their faces, because Siobhan gets to her feet immediately. ‘Is everything alright, love?’

 

Sarah opens her mouth to answer, when Cosima comes back in. She is pale and she looks worried, fiddling anxiously with her phone. ‘I dont know if I’m being paranoid, but Delphine’s not answering her phone, and she never doesn’t pick up’. 

 

She suddenly seems to become aware of the tension in the room, and frowns, hugging herself. ‘Is everything okay, guys?’

 

Felix stands to put an arm around her shoulder, frowning at Sarah. ‘We don’t know, darling, Art got a call’. 

 

Sarah and Art glance at each other, and Sarah sighs. This isn’t something they can put off. ‘Cosima… something’s happened to Delphine’. 

 

Sarah watches the world break apart behind Cosima's eyes, and preys that Delphine will live. 

 

She meant what she said. They can’t loose anyone else. 

 

And that includes Delphine, now. 

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

In the darkness, she can hear people shouting, hear beeping, hear frantic words. 

 

She can’t reach them. 

 

She’s lost. 

 

She’s dying. 

 

And then, she’s not. 

 

She sees a hand form out of the blackness, a wrist adorned with a symmetrical spiral, and the face of the woman she loves. 

 

Cosima bends over her, her hands caressing her face, lips on hers. Her eyes are deep and bottomless. ‘You said you’d never leave me, Delphine’. 

 

She tries to speak, but she can’t, she feels like there are weights holding her down, and she can’t move. 

 

 _I didn’t want to_ , she tries to say, but the words are swallowed by the darkness. She didn’t. She didn’t want to go to Frankfurt. She didn’t want to break up with her. She didn’t want to break her heart. She didn’t want to break her own. 

 

Cosima smiles, and it is as bright as the sun. ‘Then don’t’. 

 

She’s standing there in the darkness, hand stretched out, waiting. 

 

Delphine takes her hand. 

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

When she was ten years old, Layla’s father died. Too young to really understand the chaos around her, she’d always felt that there was something she was missing about the man's sudden disappearance from her life. She couldn’t explain it, but it was like something ominous hanging over her that she couldn’t touch. All she really understood was that she missed him. 

 

When she was much older, she discovered that her father was killed in a bank robbery gone wrong that took the lives of five others, plus the men who killed him. 

 

She has a similar feeling now, sitting in a hospital bed beside the unconscious woman, and waiting for this cop to arrive. 

 

She stares at her. The doctors said that she was incredibly lucky to be alive, and that if Layla hadn't come along at the time she did, it was likely Delphine would’ve bled out. The bullet went through and through, hit her liver, did damage, but in the end, they were able to save her. 

 

Layla is not exactly sure why she doesn’t feel like she should be relieved. She is, very relieved, because she looked into this woman’s eyes and promised her that it would be alright, and it is. (But at the same time, it isn’t).

 

She saw the whole thing. She saw a tall blonde woman cross the garage, and pause. She saw her put her bag on the ground, and turn, with slow, deliberate movements. She saw a hooded figure cross the garage. She heard the woman say something, and saw the figure raise their arm. She heard the gunshot, and saw the woman slam into a parked car, blood smearing across white paint. She was running before she’d really processed the movement. 

 

Three years ago Layla was assaulted, beaten and robbed. It could’ve been much worse, and ever since then, she’s carried a taser, tucked away in her handbag, just to ensure that it never does get worse. 

 

She’d slammed it into the figure’s back, snatched their gun as they fell, and had a hold of it before she was aware that the adrenaline had fully kicked in. Heart in her mouth, she’d waited for the hooded, and masked figure to attack her, but once they’d risen from the ground, they’d taken one look at the woman bleeding out behind her, and run. 

 

She knows it was because they thought Delphine was a lost case. 

 

She’d thought it too, for a moment, with her hands pressed against the woman’s wound, listening to her plead as her eyes closed. 

 

Layla shudders. She scrubbed her hands raw trying to get the blood out.

 

She stands up, and untucks the gun from her pants, under her ruined shirt, and puts it down on the side table. She has no idea what possessed her to keep it. (She does). She felt unsafe, she felt unsure, and she’d worried that the assassin would come back. She’s not entirely sure why she keeps thinking of this as an assassination attempt, or why she’s using that word instead of murder, but it feels more appropriate. 

 

There was something chilling about the way this woman faced that gun, and the way her assailant didn’t say a thing. She thinks that the way he stepped forward to finish the job will haunt her for a long time.

 

She sits on the edge of the bed carefully, staring down at Delphine. The young French woman is beautiful, and her long golden hair spreads out around her. Layla can see a faint curl in the straightened ends. She remembers that the woman has brown eyes, and she remembers that they were sad and pained and tired. The woman looks tired. She remembers the woman’s words, how pained she’d sounded, _I’m so tired_ , and wonders what on earth has happened to this woman. 

 

She has bruises on her forearm from where Delphine gripped her, and her fingers ache from the woman’s grip when she clutched at her in the ambulance, her eyes wild and afraid, and she’s not even sure if the woman was fully conscious. _Cosima_ she’d said, staring at Layla, and straight through her, unseeing and unaware, _Cosima_ , she’d repeated, and Layla had held her hand even though it hurt, and tried her best to sooth her. 

 

She wonders who Cosima is. She thinks that, if the way this woman had said her name is enough to go by, Delphine loves her. She sighs, and rubs a hand over her face. She looks back down at the woman, and freezes. 

 

Delphine’s eyes are wide open. 

 

The two women stare at each other.

 

Delphine swallows, ‘where…’ she coughs, and shudders, pain flicking over her face. 

 

‘Easy, easy’. Layla presses a hand to Delphine’s shoulder as she tries to rise, and tries to appear as comforting as possible. ‘Hey, you shouldn’t move. You were shot, remember?’

 

Delphine swallows again. ‘I remember’. She looks around anxiously, eyes darting over the shadows in the room. ‘Where am I?’

 

‘Hospital. You needed surgery. Don’t worry,' she adds, when the woman’s eyes grow wide with alarm. ‘I didn’t give your name, and I didn’t call the police. Your detective friend said he was on the way’.

 

Some of the tension seems to leak out of the woman, and she rests her head back against the pillow. Then, ‘you should not be here. You’ve put yourself in danger by even being near me’.

 

Layla raises her eyebrows slightly, her voice light and teasing, ‘I thought it would’ve been clear that I can handle myself’.

 

Delphine’s lips twitch, as if she’s trying to smile but doesn’t have the energy. She looks exhausted. ‘I’m sorry, I forgot’. She trails off for a moment, before adding more quietly, ‘thank you, for that. I wouldn’t be here without you. You…’ she seems to want to say more, but then her eyes land on the gun Layla has placed on the table, and her face looses what little colour she had. She looks strangely betrayed when she looks back at her, her eyes accusing, a little frightened, and strangely sad. ‘Or maybe this is all part of your plan, huh?’

 

Layla blinks. She turns and picks up the gun, feeling Delphine tense beside her, and then tucks it back into her jeans. She’s glad she’s wearing black jeans, because otherwise the blood stains would be incredibly obvious in this light. Then she turns back to Delphine, and says quietly, her voice low and sincere, ‘look, I don’t know what’s going on here, Delphine. I don’t know what you’re mixed up in. But I’m not part of it. I’m a complete stranger, and I mean that. I’m not linked to you, I’ve never heard of you before, and I certainly wouldn’t taser someone and do my best to stop you bleeding out all over me only to shoot you here in the hospital’.

 

Delphine searches her face, and Layla wonders what could’ve happened to this woman to make her distrust people so much. Then she takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. ‘I believe you. Maybe its foolish of me, but I do. I’m sorry. Thank you, again’. 

 

‘I kept the gun because you told me not to call the police, and I wanted to give it to your friend’. She pauses. ‘And, if your attacker tries again, I’d rather be armed with something more than a taser’. 

 

Delphine opens her eyes to stare at her. She regards her critically for a moment. Then she sighs heavily. ‘If they come for me, you won’t be able to stop them’. 

 

Layla shrugs. ‘I can try’. 

 

Delphine frowns. ‘Why would you put your life in danger to protect me? Why even try and stop what happened in the parking lot? You do not know me’. 

 

Layla takes Delphine’s hand in her own again, and squeezes. The woman’s hand is delicate and soft and cold. ‘No, I don’t. But you don’t know me, either. Maybe I’m not the type of person who’d feel comfortable standing by and letting someone die’. She pauses, watching the way Delphine’s eyes flicker down to their hands. ‘I’m guessing that you have people who would miss you. I know what its like to have people taken from you,  and…’ she trails off, unsure where she is going with this. In truth, none of that was on her mind when she pulled out the taser, dropping her bag as she ran. She doesn’t remember making a conscious decision to intervene. She shrugs, and lets the silence continue.

 

She can feel Delphine’s eyes on her. Then the woman laughs, a little pained sound that fades into a gasp. But she’s smiling when Layla looks back at her. ‘I've forgotten that people don’t always need a reason to be kind’. 

 

What an odd statement. 

 

The woman frowns suddenly. ‘I don’t know your name’.

 

‘Layla’. 

 

Delphine lifts their linked hands, up and down, twice, in something like a handshake. Her smile is a small one. ‘ _Enchantée’._

 

It is easy to smile back. ‘ _Vous aussi’._

 

Delphine’s smile widens slightly, and Layla is glad for it. The woman has a permanent sadness lingering behind her eyes that is painful to see. ‘ _Vous parlez français?’_

 

 _‘Un peu. Mon père était français’._ She’s aware that she’s opening up a door, mentioning her father, but she’s suddenly very tired. 

 

Delphine frowns slightly. ‘Was?’ 

 

‘He died’.

 

‘I’m sorry’. Delphine squeezes her hand, and Layla lets herself smile, and it's surprisingly easy. 

 

‘It was a long time ago. Afterwards, I kept studying French at school, but it's not brilliant’. She pauses. ‘I was ten’. Delphine opens her mouth, her expression strangely torn, but Layla cuts across her. ‘I’ve grown to understand some things since then. Life’s short, you know? We never know when it might be taken from us, or when it might be taken from someone we love. We all got to spend the time we have with the people who love us, I think, and we should fight for them if we can’. 

 

Delphine is staring at her, pale and drawn, and her voice trembles when she says, ‘what are you talking about?’

 

Layla honestly has no idea what possessed her to say that. Well, that is a lie. But she’s seen this woman close to death, she’s heard the way she said _Cosima_ , and… no, she really doesn’t know what she’s doing. ‘You were slipping in and out of consciousness in the ambulance. You kept talking about someone called Cosima’. 

 

The woman’s expression tightens. Layla tilts her head. ‘You love her?’

 

‘Its… complicated’. 

 

‘Then make it easy’. 

 

Delphine frowns. ‘What, just like that?’ 

 

Layla shrugs. ‘Often what we think is the most complicated could be solved by a simple, or a difficult, conversation. If you love her, and if she loves you, you’ll find a way to work it out’. 

 

‘It's a very nice sentiment’. Delphine sounds shaken, but Layla is aware that the conversation is edging into territory that she’s not aware of — whatever this mess is, however this woman ended up here, its to do with this woman. She’s aware that she’s pushing. 

 

‘ _C’est vrai’_. 

 

Delphine is quiet for a long time, and Layla turns to stare out the window into the dark sky. She feels too familiar with this woman, but maybe that is what happens when you have their blood gushing onto your hands, seeping between your fingers as you try and hold the wound closed. Maybe thats what happened when you hold someone’s life in your hands, and try to save it.

 

‘Tell me something,' says Delphine, and she looks pained for an entirely different reason. ‘If you loved someone, but they were in terrible danger, from,' she waves her other hand about, ‘the world, and the only way you could protect them, and do what needed to be done, was to be apart from them, would you break it off?’

 

Layla is beginning to understand what Delphine means by complicated. And she knows that what Delphine has said barely scratches at the surface of what she’s trying to say. She frowns slightly. ‘Does this hypothetical person love you back?’

 

There is a pause. Then, ‘yes’. 

 

‘Well, then… if this is about them, and protecting them, and doing something for their own good… shouldn’t it be their decision? If they want you to be with them, and that makes them happy, and it's their safety, and their life, shouldn’t you ask them what they want, before you sever ties?’

 

Delphine’s lip trembles. She doesn’t know why she’s asking advice from a complete, utter stranger (she does — this woman is unconnected, she’s not biased, she doesn’t have an agenda, and god its just been so long since she felt she could talk freely, too long). 

 

Layla runs her thumb over the back of Delphine’s hand soothingly. ‘Someone once told me that they thought there was little point in living if we were going to spend it making choices that made us miserable. Within reason, obviously’. She tilts her head slightly. ‘You’re clearly a survivor, Delphine. And I know that whatever is going on — with Cosima, with whoever tried to kill you, with your life — is way more complicated than I understand, and way more complicated than what I’m saying. But maybe you should start living, rather than surviving’. 

 

‘And if it puts people in danger?’ 

 

Layla frowns. ‘I think you’re probably in enough danger as it is, Delphine. Where ever you came from that meant you were a danger if you let yourself love, I don’t think you’ll be able to return there, do you?’

 

Delphine remains silent. 

 

‘The less I know, the better, right?’ Layla smiles. ‘Look, talk to this Cosima. You’re probably going to have a lot of time on your hands, and someone will need to help you with recovery. I’m guessing you’re going to want to get out of here as soon as possible, right?’ 

 

Delphine nods. Her eyes are bright and there are tears collecting in the corners. She takes a shaky breath and pushes her tears away. She feels out of control. She’s told this woman too much already. Maybe its because she nearly died. She hasn’t really processed that thought. 

 

‘Layla?’

 

‘Mmmm?’

 

‘ _Merci_ ’. 

 

They both know that Delphine is not referring to Layla’s intervention. 

 

Layla squeezes her hand.  _‘De rien’._

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

Layla jerks out of a doze to the sound of knuckles on wood. She starts, and stands groggily. She feels a flash of guilt for falling asleep while on watch. She takes a calming breath, and glances at Delphine. The woman is fast asleep. She looks more at ease than she did before. 

 

Laya pulls the gun from her jeans, holds it behind her back, and crosses to the door. She pulls the chair away from where it was wedged under the door, and opens it a crack. 

 

The stony-faced man with dark skin stands in her line of sight, his eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Layla SinClair? Detective Bell’. 

 

She breathes a sigh of relief, and opens the door. The man glances at her firearm as she tucks it back into her jeans, and raises an eyebrow. ‘Were you going to use that?’

 

She shrugs. ‘If I had to. I told you that I didn’t intend to let anyone finish the job’. 

 

The man seems to smile. He steps into the room, and he’s followed by a huge group of people. Well, not huge, but certainly more than she’d expected. 

 

There are three others. She blinks. No, there are four, but two of the women look so alike that they’re almost identical, they _are_ identical, and her jaw drops slightly before she can stop herself. 

 

When the door is shut, the detective turns to her, in time to catch her expression. The introductions are brief. ‘Ms SinClair, this is Felix, Siobhan, Sarah and Cosima’. 

 

Layla turns her head immediately at the last name. Cosima is one of the twins, a young dark eyed woman with dreadlocks and glasses. She looks pale and drained and a little scared. Actually, very scared. She’s trying to catch a glimpse of Delphine behind the curtain, but Layla is standing in the way, and she’s only just registered this. 

 

She moves out of the way. 

 

The moment Cosima sees Delphine, she forgets about everything else. She rushes forwards, oblivious to the voices behind her, and leans on the bed, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm against her ribs. Delphine looks very pale, and Cosima's gaze catches on the bandages she can see beneath the woman’s hospital gown. She leans on the bed, an arm on the pillow, her fingers moving to stroke the woman’s soft hair, while the other hovers over her injury. ‘You idiot,' she whispers, her lips close to Delphine’s ear, ‘and I thought you were good at protecting people’. 

 

It is true. Delphine is very, very good at protecting people, just not herself. She presses a kiss to the woman’s forehead, just to avoid having to look at her. It is an eery feeling, seeing Delphine hurt, and in need. It's usually her in that position. 

 

She turns to look at the woman who saved Delphine. She’s a tall and willowy woman, with thick dark hair, rich dark skin and angular features. She’s listening to Art speak with her head slightly tilted, arms folded over her chest. She’s wearing black jeans and a grey dark shirt, sleeves rolled up past the elbows, that is patterned with darker, apparently uneven splotches. 

 

Cosima feels her stomach lurch when she realises that it's not a pattern, but blood stains. 

 

She takes a deep breath and focuses on what’s being said to distract herself from the knowledge that Delphine was shot in a parking garage, not an hour after they’d just kissed. While Cosima was thinking about how much she wanted Delphine, and how much she still loved her, Delphine was bleeding out into a stranger’s hands. 

 

Siobhan is saying, ‘could we trouble you to go through the whole story again?’

 

Layla shrugs, and moves around to sit on the window sill. Alarm flashes in Sarah’s eyes, and Cosima wonders if she’s remembering Helena’s attempt to kill Rachel. Layla seems to see it, because she smiles tightly. ‘There are no buildings high enough out there for a shot’. 

 

Siobhan seems to tense. ‘And would you an expert on those matters, hey?’ 

 

Laya blinks. She stares at Siobhan for a moment, and the atmosphere feels tense. Then she raises her hands, turns, and closes the blinds. Without the expanse of dark sky unfurling before them, the room feels too cramped. Layla turns back, her hands raised to shoulder height. ‘Hey, I’m not a threat, okay? I’m not part of… whatever did this to her’. 

 

‘And what would you know about that?’ Sarah asks, her eyes narrowed slightly, and she looks strikingly similar to Siobhan in that moment. Sarah closes her eyes momentarily. ‘Look, we need to make sure you don’t have anything to do with this, at all. We need to make sure that we’re safe’. 

 

Cosima is surprised to see that the woman doesn’t look even mildly offended. She nods her head, and the only expression Cosima can read on her is one of understanding. The woman nods. ‘I get it,' she jerks her head at the still sleeping Delphine, ‘she had something of a similar reaction’. 

 

Cosima's heart is suddenly in her throat. ‘Wait, she woke up?’ 

 

Layla blinks, and then scrubs a hand over her face. ‘Yeah, umm, not long ago I think. Not that long after she came out of surgery, either’. She smiles at Cosima, and there is something warm about it, something reassuring, and Cosima wonders why this woman seems to be focusing on her. ‘She’s okay. She’s tough’. She shakes herself, her eyes flickering between Sarah and Siobhan. ‘What do you want to know?’

 

‘Can you tell us what happened, quickly?’ 

 

Cosima sits on the edge of Delphine’s bed, and fits their fingers together. She only realises what she has once when she notices Felix looking. She swallows, and tries to avoid his eyes. 

 

Layla takes a deep breath. ‘I’ll try and be succinct. Delphine crossed the garage in front of me. I saw her stop, and turn, and this figure stepped out from behind a pillar. I don’t know if they were female or male. She said something to them, and the figure raised a gun and fired’. She takes a deep shuddering breath. From that point, her thoughts are muddled. Before the gun shot, everything was clear and concise. Afterwards, it's a blur of adrenaline and fear and desperation. She runs a hand through her thick hair, pushing it up out of her face. ‘I… when the shot was fired, Delphine was thrown back against a car. I started… running. I keep a taser on me. I… its sort of a blur. I tasered him. When he feel, I grabbed his gun. I thought he would try and attack, but he didn’t. He just… he looked at Delphine, and ran. I think he thought she was done for’. She takes another deep breath. ‘I called an ambulance, and tried applying pressure to the wound’.

 

There is a long silence. Then Siobhan says, ‘that was very succinct, but unfortunately, it doesn’t clear up everything. So questions; why were you in the garage lot?’, the woman’s steely expression softens slightly. ‘Why in the world did you decide to get in the way of a shooter and their would be victim?’

 

Layla’s jaw tightens, and this time she does look irritated. Cosima feels a flash of the same irritation, after all, she couldn’t be more grateful to this woman, and she hasn’t been able to say it yet, and she feels like they should be more thankful. But she understands, because there a moles everywhere, and they’ve been betrayed so many times. And Cosima knows she’s always been too trusting, god has she, but she looks at the way Layla glances at Delphine, and can’t help but feel that maybe this person really doesn’t mean them harm. 

 

Layla rubs a hand over her face with a heavy sigh. ‘You may not believe my answer. You’d think from the look of the place that it's a very secure set of apartments. From the front, its secure, with its gate and,' she waves her hand, ‘you know. But there are two fire escapes, on different ends of the garage, that are never locked. One leads to an ally that comes out onto the main street, and the other leads to… a park, basically. In truth?’ she sighs, a strangely wistful smile curves her lips. ‘Every night after work I cut through that garage to get home. It feels… safer than the open street’. She frowns slightly, something dark passing over her gaze. ‘I don’t think I’ll be taking that route again’. 

 

She looks at Delphine, and she smiles again. ‘My being there was a complete coincidence, if you believe me’.

 

Art exchanges a glance with Sarah. ‘I’ll check it out, don’t worry’.

 

Layla hesitates, and glances back at Siobhan. ‘As for your last question, I can’t answer that. I didn’t make a conscious decision. It just… I reacted’. 

 

‘Did Delphine trust you?’ Cosima isn’t sure why she wants to know, but the unconscious woman has always warned her about trusting people. Maybe if she believed Layla, despite how little that seems to happen, then Cosima can relax a little. 

 

Layla stares at the unconscious woman for a moment. Then she shrugs. ‘I think so. Trust is… She thought I’d saved her to finish the job here, at first. But I managed to convince her that I wouldn’t try and stop her bleeding out, only to get myself arrested by shooting her here'. She gives Siobhan a pointed look. 

 

Sarah sighs heavily and runs a hand through her hair, pressing it for a moment against her forehead. ‘You’ve got a point. Look… we’re thankful, really, you saved her life’. Sarah does sound sincere, and she smiles briefly before settling back into a permeant look of concern and anxiousness. ‘We’ve just…we’ve been betrayed a lot by people we thought we could trust. People who apparently had no connections to…’ she stops. Then sighs. ‘Shit. We are thankful’. She leans forwards, her expression open and honest. ‘ _Thank you_ , for saving Delphine’. 

 

‘Yeah, thank you,' says Cosima, Felix’s hand tight on her shoulder, her hand tight in Delphine’s. ‘We owe you… _I_ owe you… just, thank you’. Her voice catches on the edge of a sob, and she ducks her head down to avoid the woman’s gaze, but not before she catches a glimpse of her expression. She has the distinct feeling that Layla knows exactly what she is talking about. 

 

She ignores the conversation for a moment, deciding instead to stare down at the woman she loves. _Loves_ , not loved, because she’s known for a long time now, has maybe always known, that she still does. And she made a decision, there at the dinner table, that she doesn’t want to pretend anymore. She feels Felix bend closer, and then whisper to her, ‘it’ll be okay, darling. You’ll _both_ be okay’.

 

She takes a shuddering breath. Felix has been unusually quiet during this conversation, watching Layla with a calculating expression for most of the ‘interrogation’. He recognises that there isn’t much he can do here, in terms of that. But he came here for Cosima, to support her. So he stands there, hands on her shoulders, and tries to lend some support. 

 

Layla’s voice cuts through Cosima's thoughts. ‘Look, can I ask something? Someone tried to assassinate her, and from the way you guys are handling this, I’m guessing I’m not the only one who thinks that they’ll try again. Shouldn’t we…I don’t know, take this conversation, and Delphine, somewhere else? Somewhere safer?’

 

Sarah and Siobhan exchange a glance, and the older woman nods. ‘I called my people on the way here. They’ll get back to us’. 

 

Layla sinks to the floor suddenly. Siobhan starts forward, as does Sarah, undeniably concerned, but the woman holds up a hand. ‘I just need to sit. Its been a long day, you know?’ She scrubs a hand over her face and sighs. Then pauses. ‘You guys do this a lot, don’t you?’

 

Siobhan stares down at her for a moment, and then smiles, and Cosima feels some of the tension in the room ease. ‘The less you know, love, the better’.

 

There is a knock at the door, a hard, firm rapping, and everyone jumps. Cosima blinks, and Siobhan is holding a gun. A moment later, so is Art. 

 

This can’t turn into a cross fire, the thought sticks hard in Cosima's throat. Sarah hisses, ‘wait, S, bloody hell. We can’t start a shootout in the middle of a bloody hospital’. 

 

‘Hide,' says Layla, her eyes wide, her hand behind her back, fingers curling around the gun she took when she saved Delphine’s life. ‘Hide, in the corner, under the bed, behind the door. Just hide’. 

 

Sarah grabs Cosima, but her hand is locked in Delphine’s, and she feels her hands trying to pry their fingers apart. She’s reminded of a death grip, and fear clouds her mind. She can’t loose Delphine. ‘What are you going to do?’

 

Layla licks her lips, glances at Siobhan. ‘If they're a threat, we’ll know soon enough. Knock him out, and then get out’.

 

Sarah opens her mouth to argue, but Art hisses, ‘we really don’t have time’. 

 

‘Cosima,' Layla’s eyes are hard and her jaw tense, like a pillar of strength in a world that she doesn’t understand, ‘trust me’.

 

And just like that, it feels so simple. 

 

Siobhan moves to stand behind the door, her gun still out. Felix grabs Cosima's hand, muttering, ‘bloody hell, there isn’t enough room for us,' and grabs her into a corner, flicking the light switch as they go. The room is plunged almost entirely into darkness, except for a single light burning bright over Delphine. Cosima swallows tightly, pressing back against the wall, trying not to think about how vulnerable Delphine looks lying there. She doesn’t know where Art is, but she sees Sarah duck down on the other side of the bed, near the windows. 

 

Layla stands there for a moment, silhouetted against the light, her profile hard and sharp. Then she sits down in the chair, and Cosima sees the gun flash momentarily in the light. And then Layla tips her head back, and closes her eyes. 

 

There is a long moment. Cosima imagines she can hear their hearts pounding together, in synch, afraid for Delphine, and afraid for themselves. 

 

The door inches open, sending a single ray of light slicing through the darkness. She hears Felix’s breath catch. 

 

A man eases into the room. He moves towards Delphine without making a sound, his boots treading noiselessly on the floor. He is not a doctor. He approaches the bed, and Cosima can see a harsh profile, a mouth twisted down, a brow furrowed. She sees the glint of something metallic, and realises he’s holding a needle. 

 

Her heart stops. 

 

Siobhan explodes out of the darkness and slams the but of her gun against the base of the man’s head. He grunts, and then falls, crashing to the ground with a sound that is like a gunshot after the silence. He doesn’t move. 

 

‘Nice work, S’. Sarah stands, and so does Layla, and Art is there, his expression severe and worried. Sarah jerks her head at the man. ‘Is this the guy who shot Delphine?’

 

Felix flicks the lights, and the sudden light is blinding. Cosima is by Delphine’s side, hands filtering over her, but the man didn’t touch her, and she lets out a shaky breath, and links their hands again. It feels warm, and steadying, and like a piece of home that’s been missing without her knowing. 

 

Layla bends down to peer at the man’s face, and shakes her head. ‘He’s bigger than the shooter’. 

 

‘Well, that’s bloody brilliant,' Felix presses a hand to his forehead. ‘Now what? And what was that, were you just going to lie there?’

 

Siobhan eyes Layla with something like curiosity. ‘You thought fast, love. Seems to be a pattern’. There is a buzzing sound, and Siobhan reaches into her pocket, a look of relief flashing over her face.

 

Layla turns to Cosima. ‘You need to go. You need to take Delphine and get out of here’. She sweeps her gaze over all of them. ‘I assume you have a plan?’ 

 

Siobhan nods, eyes on Sarah, her phone in her hand. ‘My people are waiting outside. Once we’re out of here, I’ll explain the rest, but the less she knows’, she gestures to Layla with her gun without seeming to think about it, and Layla’s jaw tightens, ‘the better for all of us’. 

 

‘What about you?’ asks Cosima, staring at Layla, because she’s suddenly realises how much danger this woman has put herself in, and how much more she’ll be in once they leave. 

 

Layla swallows and turns to Sarah. ‘Knock me out’. 

 

Sarah blinks, ‘what?’

 

‘Knock me out,' she repeats, glancing over at Cosima. ‘As long as they think that I don’t have anything to do with this, you’ll have more time, and hopefully, I won’t be under too much suspicion. He saw that I was asleep, and if he wakes to find me unconscious, then it’ll back up my story. 

 

‘These people won’t believe that,' Felix frowns at her. ‘They’ll think you helped us. They’ll interrogate you’.

 

‘You saved Delphine’s life. Put that with this, and they’re not gonna think it was a coincidence. They won’t forgive that’. Cosima feels like they should be doing more, but the woman she loves is in danger and she’s frightened and she can’t ask for more. 

 

Layla shrugs. ‘Do you have a better idea?’ She looks around at them all. ‘Go. Take Delphine, get her out, and I’ll buy you as much time as I can’. 

 

‘What will you tell them?’ asks Art, helping Cosima to raise the bars on the bed. 

 

Layla’s smile is small. ‘The truth. That I saved a woman in a parking garage, and I wanted to stay with her. That I fell asleep, and someone must’ve come and knocked me out and taken her. For all I know, Jane Doe is dead’. 

 

She sits down in the chair and Sarah moves behind her, biting her lip and looking anxious. Art steps forward. ‘I’ll do it’. Sarah looks vaguely relieved.

 

Layla fixes Cosima with a strange, complicated look, but when she smiles, its wide and warm and honest. ‘Make sure she lives, Cosima’. 

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

It's a blur, after that. 

 

All Cosima knows is running, her hand in Delphine’s, helping to guide the bed down the hallway, avoiding nurses and doctors and preying that there aren’t more people out here. 

 

All she knows is adrenaline and fear, and Layla’s last, burning look, and Cosima feels like her words were more than just about getting Delphine to safety. 

 

All she knows is that Delphine is alive and that they’ll get her to safety, and everything will be fine. It has to be. 

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

Delphine wakes to warmth and sunlight, streaming through a window and falling across her bed. 

 

She feels panic grip her when she takes in her unfamiliar surroundings. 

 

She starts to push herself up, but pain slices through her torso at the sudden movement, and she groans. 

 

‘Hey, you’re awake’.

 

She feels her heart stop. _Cosima_. She stares at the wall, refusing to look at the voice, terrified beyond belief that this is a trick, terrified that this is her imagination, that she’s dreaming, that she’s gone insane.

 

She feels the bed dip. A familiar smell washes over her, and then there is a soft hand on her cheek, warm and familiar, turning her head. She meets Cosima's eyes, warm and open and full of something that might be love (she remembers the last time Cosima looked at her like that, and then, things were so simple). It’s her. She’s real. 

 

She opens her mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a shuddering gasp that sounds suspiciously like a sob. Cosima's expression breaks apart, and she wraps her arms around Delphine’s shoulders. ‘Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, you’re safe’. 

 

 _Safe_. 

 

Delphine pushes away the fear that Cosima is wrong, the vague knowledge of what happened to her, and hugs her back, and they haven’t embraced like this since… since longer than she can remember (she knows exactly how long), and it does feel safe, it feels safe and like home, and she feels as if Cosima is holding her together. 

 

‘You scared the shit out of me, Delphine’. Her voice is a whisper lost in blonde hair, but Delphine hears it all the same. She can’t speak. 

 

‘Hey,' Cosima pulls back, cups Delphine’s face in her hands gently, eyes searching her face. ‘Talk to me’. 

 

‘I…’ She wants to say that she’s sorry. She wants to say she loves her, and that she doesn’t want to be selfless anymore. She wants to be selfish. She wants to cry. She wants to laugh. She wants to tell her that they aren’t safe. She wants to ask for forgiveness. 

 

She doesn’t. Instead, she kisses her, and it feels like healing. Cosima sighs against her lips, and kisses her back, and Delphine doesn’t want to do anything else, and in that moment, nothing else exists. Then she pulls apart, and says, ‘you saved me, Cosima’. It feels like a confession. 

 

Cosima frowns. ‘No, I didn’t. Layla did, remember?’

 

Layla, strange, unattached, kind Layla, who held her hand and told her to love and be loved, who told her to live, who told her that she couldn’t protect people if they didn't want to be. She wonders what’s become of her. But she needs to finish saying this, or she never will. ‘Thats not what I meant. I was dying. I was…ready, to die’. (That is a lie). She tries again. There have been enough lies between them. ‘It would’ve been easier to. But I saw your face’. She closes her eyes, and rests her forehead against Cosima’s, breathing her in. ‘You brought me back. I know you said I didn’t believe in those types of things. But I believe this. I believe _in_ this’, she presses her hand against Cosima’s chest, and she can’t stop her voice from trembling. ‘I came back for you’. 

 

Cosima presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Delphine cannot look at her. ‘Then be with me’. 

 

Her eyes fly open. ‘But…,' she’d thought it would be harder. She’d thought that she’d have to fight. She’d thought that Cosima would push her away, and she’s let herself be convinced. ‘Its too dangerous’. 

 

‘Maybe I don’t care about the danger, Delphine’. Cosima softens her voice. ‘Let me worry about that, okay? You’ve done enough for us’. 

 

Delphine sighs. It would be so easy to just slip into Cosima’s arms and forget about her responsibilities. It would be so easy to live. She knows she should protest. She should argue. She should pull away. But she came close to death. She felt it brush against her bones. But she was pulled back by the hands of a kind stranger, and the face of the woman she loves, and god if that doesn’t mean something, she doesn’t know what to think. 

 

She feels Cosima’s breath catch, they are so close. The woman says, lowly, hoarsely, ‘I love you, so much, and I can’t… I came so close to loosing you. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to love you, and pretend that I don’t’.

 

Delphine lets Cosima wrap her arms around her, and presses her face against the woman’s neck, breathing in her scent, breathing in her warmth, and it feels like coming home, finally. She feels whole, as if everything that has happened is soothing away. ‘ _Je t’aime_ , Cosima’. 

 

She thinks again of Layla’s words, and she thinks of Cosima's hands on her face, of her lips on hers, calling her back to a world that she’d thought no longer wanted her. ‘Are you sure about this?’ she whispers, word’s lost against Cosima's skin. 

 

‘Yes’. Cosima cups her hands under Delphine’s jaw and lifts her head and kisses her, hands sliding into her hair, pulling her close, repeating the words over and over until they’re wrapped in a cocoon, and she doesn’t let her go. 

 

Delphine chokes on a sob and kisses her back and the warmth of the woman’s skin and the taste of her is like finding a piece of heaven. Cosima pulls back, and presses kisses to Delphine’s face, showering her with love that feels like it's stitching her back together. Then she says, ‘you’ve done enough of trying to protect us all alone, Delphine. You don’t have to be alone anymore. I won’t _let_ you be alone’. 

 

Delphine knows she’s crying, and she clutches at Cosima and whispers, _je t’aime,_ again and again and again, and lets herself believe that maybe things will be okay. 

 

Cosima's breath is warm in her ear. ‘I’ll never leave you, Delphine. But I can’t do this without you. I need you. I need you to stay with me’. 

 

‘I won’t leave you,' Delphine stares into Cosima’s brown eyes and feels awash in them, ‘I promise you, if it is within my power, I will never leave you, _mon cœur’_. 

 

Things are by no means solved. Cosima is still sick, there is a fanatic group out to kill them, Rachel’s missing, and Delphine’s been shot, and none of that is okay. 

 

But Cosima is alive, and breathing, and so is Delphine, and they’ve both survived the odds so far, and Delphine thinks that maybe they can do more together. 

 

Maybe they can _live_. 

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

Layla’s life returns to normal after that. She’s questioned by the police, and she tells a version of the truth. There is no reason for them to doubt her story. There is footage of what happened in the parking garage, and every word she tells about that part is the truth. She gives them the gun she took, and tells them that she was frightened, and wasn’t thinking, tells them that she didn’t call the police because she was concentrating on saving the stranger, and they seem to believe her. Maybe it is partly true, anyway.

 

The man was gone by the time the police got there, having been called by a frantic doctor who came in to find his patient missing, and her saviour unconscious in a chair, and spots of blood on the floor. 

 

Later, when a woman approaches her and asks for her story again, she’s aware of the man watching from across the street, and aware that she’s in danger. She tells the same story, and she doesn’t waver under the woman’s imposing stare. 

 

They leave, and she breathes, and life returns to normal. She’s aware, every now and then, of someone following her, of a car creeping along behind her, of footsteps echoing her own. Maybe they don’t believe her, and are waiting to see whether she’s contacted, and maybe they do, and are just checking. 

 

She buys another taser, and goes back to her boxing classes, learns how to fire a gun, and walks around with a knife tucked into her boot. 

 

Days go by, weeks go by, and she doesn’t hear anything, and the people stop following her, and she’s still alive, and she thinks that that is the way it will stay. She isn’t sure if she wants to know what is going on, what story those people are entangled in, or the reason why Delphine was shot. She knows that she will never know. And she thinks that maybe she’s okay with that. 

 

She still has Detective Bell’s card, and she knows that he still has her number, and she know that she can call if things turn bad. 

 

She doesn’t use that parking garage again, and she starts driving to work, rather than using public transport. 

 

And then, two months after she saved a woman from bleeding out in an apartment garage, she sees them again. 

 

It is a cold, grey morning, and she has a thick scarf wrapped around her neck, a cup of coffee warming her hands, leaning back in her chair, listening to the sounds of the bustling cafe, and watching clouds roll across the sky. 

 

She’s not exactly sure what makes her turn around. But there they are, at the back of the cafe, Sarah and Felix and Cosima and Delphine, and a little girl she doesn’t know. Felix and Sarah have their backs to her, the girl between them, and Cosima and Delphine sit opposite her, tucked against each other, Delphine’s arm around the shorter woman’s shoulders. Delphine’s hair is shorter, and curly. It makes her look softer. Their heads are bowed together, and as she watches, Delphine’s eyes light up, and she laughs, and so does Cosima, and Sarah punches Felix in the arm. She hears a peal of clear laughter from the girl tucked into Sarah’s side. She can’t hear what they’re saying, but finds herself smiling. 

 

And then Cosima looks up, and meets her eyes. Her expression freezes for a moment, and then her smile widens. Delphine notices, and looks up. Her eyes widen, and Layla sees that the sadness once lingering permanently behind her expression is gone. She smiles, and its like a burst of sunlight across the room. Sarah and Felix turn, and strangely similar grins curve their lips. Felix raises his hand and gives a mock salute. Sarah runs her hand through the girl’s hair. 

 

Layla smiles at Delphine and Cosima, and sees that their hands are linked on the table. She smiles, because none of them look as afraid as they did last time she saw them. She smiles, because they’re here, they’re alive, and they’re laughing. 

 

Then she puts her coffee down, pulls on her coat, and leaves. She can feel their eyes on her, and she doesn’t look back. She feels warm, and she can’t stop smiling. 

 

A week later, she receives a postcard with a picturesque image of Provence on the front, and the words _thank you_ written on the back, once in French, and once in English, in two different sets of handwriting, and a mobile number. 

 

She memorises the number, and burns the postcard. 

 

She smiles, and goes on living. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what this is but I needed to write it after that ending. Hope you enjoyed :)


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